


Liberty Leading the People

by AdrenalineRevolver



Series: CosettEnjolras AU [8]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Badass Cosette, Barricade Day, Because of Reasons, CosettEnjolras AU, Friendship, More bois will be added, Protective Combeferre, alternate endings will be a thing depending on ur choice of ship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 12:58:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17386880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdrenalineRevolver/pseuds/AdrenalineRevolver
Summary: To the barricades! How will Cosette survive the second day?





	1. The Barricades

The barricade had very nearly been lost. 

After her father had taken Marius away and the other young woman had been evacuated to look after her wounds Gavroche had accidentally won the day for them. 

Cosette supposed she did; however, it was simply in reaction to the boy’s rashness. 

When she saw him searching for bullets both she and Courfeyrac flung themselves to his defense however their companions only had time to stop Courfeyrac. 

In her panic she didn’t realize that her waistcoat was ripped by something exposed within their shelter. She felt a stab of pain but it was only when she heard someone within the National Guard yell “Hold your fire!” did she realize something was wrong. 

Gavroche’s confused stare only confirmed it. Her clothes had been ripped to the skin and it was quite plain to see that she was a woman. 

“Shit!” She heard Combeferre curse over Courfeyrac’s panicked pleas for the two of them to return to safety. She had to agree with the sentiment. 

She could see that a few window shutters were opening due to the lapse in gunfire.

“Woman! Who are you? What are you doing here? Take your son and return home!” A guardsman called.

Cosette could feel her blood boil. A rifle had been in her hand. She had been seen with her men. Yet now that they knew they thought she was just retrieving her son? Rationality left her as she shoved Gavroche over the barricade and stood on top of it. She knew the others were begging her to get down but all she did was tear off the remainder of her waistcoat and shirt and hold it aloft. 

“I am Liberty! And I am leading my people!” When she screamed all she cared about was volume. Not if her voice was Enjolras or Cosette’s. At the moment she was neither. She was just fury.

Shortly after rifles are raised again and she’s pulled backwards into the arms of her friends.

“Feuilly, get her some bandages for the wound and a shirt.” Combeferre slipped effortlessly into the roll of leader once he saw her wounds.

“You madwoman!” Courfeyrac clung to her like she had risen from the dead. 

“Apparently madness was what we needed.” Bousett quickly points out where previously housewives that had been hiding were now tossing knives and boiling water down at the guardsmen below. 

“It won’t be enough to win but we can safely retreat now. Fight again another day.” Combeferre stating the simple truth weighed heavy. 

Courfeyrac had the fight taken out of him by nearly watching Gavroche die. He could sacrifice himself but not the child. He nodded along readily with the assessment.

Jehan was still injured from his near scrape with capture. He was alive but in and out of consciousness. If the barricade were rushed he would be doomed. He wouldn’t oppose the decision to stay however it would directly mean his life. 

Bossuet had been injured as well.

Now their leader was injured, her gender was revealed, and they had a distraction. 

“If you would like to go that’s completely understandable. But I can’t. I-“ Cosette begins.

“Cosette.” Combeferre had never called her by her name before. He lowered his voice and leaned in so that only she could hear. “It is not simply death you risk now that you’ve been exposed. They would have shot a child to death had you not distracted them. What would they do to a woman who insulted them? They will make an example of you if they catch you. You have both your father and Marius to look after as well. They will need you. We will need you in the wake of this.”

A chill goes through her and it’s quickly replaced by a guilt that settles in her gut. Combeferre of course isn’t done. 

“If I must make you detest me, I’m willing.” The threat feels comforting in a sense. She could practically see Combeferre dragging her kicking and screaming to a hideout.

“Kidnapped and dragged to safety. An interesting inversion. Though I will break your glasses if you try.” She tries to laugh but it’s just an exhausted huff of air. "You are lucky I can forgive even mutiny from you." 

Feuilly hurried over with what was likely the last of their supplies and began to bandage her wounds while pretending he wasn’t listening intently to Cosette and Combeferre’s discussion. He couldn’t locate a shirt for her but the bandages at least preserved some of her modesty.

“Exactly, nor do I think any of the others would protest greatly to stealing you away until this is over if you were about to stay and die here alone.” He was confident, as he knew it was true, the others would do it for any member that tried to do such a thing. She would have Bahorel snatch any of the others up and toss them over his shoulder if they were contemplating what she was.

Cosette raised her voice and turned to the others. “I will remain until the last fighter. Someone must cover your escape.”

Combeferre and Courfeyrac both sighed but allowed her this. They weren’t about to be able to convince her of anything else and they knew it.

“Mademoiselle?” A soft voice called. “Do your men need a place to hide?” The door of a home behind he barricade opened to reveal a woman with greying hair. “My home has a back door as well as a basement.” Until now any interaction they had had with the people was distant at best. 

“Blessed woman.” Joly leaned against Bossuet who was cradling a very broken arm.

“We will be swift.” Cosette promised. “Joly, take Jehan and Bossuet into the basement to help them recover. I’d wait until nightfall to leave. The rest of us I fear we must split up. We will be noticed otherwise.”

“I have means for a disguise for you as well, Liberty.” The woman offered as she ushered the injured men inside. 

“Thank you, you’ve saved many today.” She was beginning to feel the fatigue of the battles upon her.

“Oh no, thank you.” She smiled softly.

“But we have to stay! We have to fight!” Gavroche wormed his way out of Courfeyrac’s grip and ran up to Cosette. “Enjolras we can’t abandon everyone!”

She knelt in front of him. “We aren’t abandoning everyone, nor are they abandoning us. The bells of St. Mery have ceased, even Commander Jeanne has been forced to back down.” Or he has been killed, something that would be truly disheartening. “We will not die here. We shall see France and her people free. But to do so we have to make the tactical decision.”

“They’re reloading the cannons.” Bahorel warned from his post. 

“Come with us and see this war to victory.” Cosette knew how crushed Gavroche must be, yet this truly was their only chance to live and likely France’s only chance to break free. 

He stared at the ground. “Next time I want a real gun.”

“You have earned it.” She stands and starts giving out orders again. 

“Courfeyrac, bring him along with you. Should you be stopped he is your brother who fancied himself a revolutionary and you’re bringing him home. Bahorel remain on watch with me while we get the others out. Feuilly and Combeferre, help load the remaining gunpowder onto the barricade so that we may blow it when ready.”  
“Blow it?” Combeferre sounded mortified even as he moved to do as requested.

“Absolutely, they will rush it when they realize we’re leaving. If we toss fire from afar we might can light the gunpowder and send the entire thing in a blaze. With luck the flame of rebellion itself will separate them from us.” Cosette looked around at the group. “Should anything happen-“

“Don’t you dare say such things!” Courfeyrac interjected as he hurried Gavroche along. 

“Should anything happen I need you all to know. It has been the greatest joy in my life to call you my friends, should you be a fraction as proud of yourselves as I am of you this day then this is assuredly the grandest day of your lives.” She wished she had the time and safety to hug them.

“I’ll be sure to tell Jehan when he wakes.” Joly said with a grin. 

“Oh do not, he will bawl!” Bahorel called down.

“And I’m certain it’s raining again only your face seems to be catching everything?” Feuilly teased as he tossed another barrel of gunpowder into place.

“Silence you.” He laughed despite it. 

Cosette treasured that they could laugh in the face of death.


	2. Combeferre Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Combeferre and Cosette flee the barricade together.

Once the final man was evacuated Combeferre took her hand and they went running through the streets. Her borrowed dress billowed out behind her as she hurried along.

They didn’t get manage to get far before finding trouble. 

A guardsmen grabbed Combeferre as he ran and wretched him back into the alley by the shirt collar. A pistol was placed to his temple before Cosette could even react. 

“Unhand him!” All taking a step forward got was the gun being cocked.

“Any last words, rebel?” The man roughly shoves the gun against him.

Combeferre froze before his eyes flew to Cosette’s. “I love you. From the moment I met you, you took my breath away. Your bravery, your kindness, your optimism. It has been my greatest treasure to be dear to you in any way.”

Cosette’s heart stopped. This was a ruse right? Something to distract the guard. She had to do something. “P-Please sir, you misunderstand why we were running. We were using the chaos to elope and were drawn into the fray. I beg of you let him go.” She took a careful step forward.

“Did you wish for death?” He scoffed.

“We knew it would be dangerous so we didn’t want to be unprepared.” She explained. “Please don’t take him from me.” Her eyes filled with tears. 

The man seemed to grow hesitant. “Tell me what you know of the rebels.” 

“I will the moment you return him to me.” As she promised this Combeferre did his best to hide his concern. 

When he made the mistake of taking the pistol away from Combeferre’s head she rushed forward to grab his wrist and retching the gun from his grip. Combeferre elbowed the man in the stomach and grabbed his sword before tossing it to Cosette. She ran the man through without hesitating. 

His eyes went wide before he collapsed. As Cosette stared at the man Combeferre carefully took the gun from her. 

“I’ve killed him.” She shot at many men on the barricades and had killed a spy herself however this was something much more personal. She could feel his pulse through the blade.

“No you haven’t.” Combeferre shot him in he heart to end his pain. “I have.” 

“That wouldn’t have been necessary without me. We could have intimidated him into submission if I hadn’t…” She looked down at the bloodied weapon in her hands.

Combeferre put a hand on her shoulder. “You saved my life. He knew the risk of his actions when he decided to attack us, as he was alone and only had a pistol and sabre. You acted on instinct.”

“I would never regret doing it for you but the action itself...” She leaned forward and buried her head in his chest. “We would have had to anyway. He saw us too closely.”

“We would have.” He put his hand on the back of her head. “Never forget that this isn’t your burden alone. You attacked him, I executed him.”

“Thank you.” She sighed. “And thank you for realizing how to distract him.” 

“That wasn’t my intent.” He glanced away. “My intent was to die knowing you knew the truth. I adore you. When you spoke up in Courfeyrac and I’s defense it was a coup de foudre that rendered me unable to think. At every turn you floor me. The bravery it took to defend us when you had no defense yourself, the determination you showed when you came to find us, even the borderline insane manner in which you run head first into any danger were all too much to bear and not love you.”

“I…” She felt herself going red. “I must warn you if you keep saying such things I will have to tell you how I feel, then you will be stuck with me and I’m afraid I’m not a very good woman.” 

“I fell in love with no good woman. I fell in love with a revolutionary.” Combeferre smiled and tried to speak again. “If y-“

Cosette cut him off by pulling him down by his shirt and kissing him. She could feel him relax into the kiss as he realized what was going on. “Save these words for when we’re safe, Prince Charming.”

“Did we not just nearly die to rid ourselves of monarchy?” He sounded a bit breathless as he teased.

“A class traitor to the bourgeoisie, as any woman’s ideal prince would be. One seeking to dismantle the very monarchy that has him in power above his fellow man.” She kissed his cheek just to savor having him close. 

“We need to go.” He reminded her gently, seemingly not noticing that his glasses were close to falling off his face.

“Hold me as we go. We need to make sure anyone who sees us sees a young couple driven to dangerous extremes from love.” She reached up to fix his glasses.

“Then we shouldn’t need to act at all.” Combeferre gently took her hand and brought it to his lips.

Charming indeed. She smiled and locked her arm with his. 

The streets were a quiet chaos as they tore through them; survivors and bystanders clung close to buildings as they tried to get to safety. Even the guards themselves seemed to be swept up in the confusion, young men and sympathizers were hiding from their commanders for fear of killing their brothers or being killed themselves. Other than the occasional shout or crash of gunfire the only noise in the usually noisy Paris streets was the sound of their rapid footfalls.

They finally stopped at Combeferre’s flat where Cosette pulled Combeferre into a kiss the moment the door shut behind them. She could feel his glasses be knocked askew again and the rapid flutter of his heart. 

“I-I’m sorry that was indecent.” She hopped back and covered her mouth.

“Don’t be.” Combeferre took his glasses off and set them on his desk. “I fear I wouldn’t be able to recognize you without your fire.”

“If indecency is allowed, then please lay with me. I doubt I’ll see anything but gunfire if I don’t sleep with you.” She blushed a bit as she led him to the bed. 

“I understand completely.” He stripped down to his shirt and trousers before lying down beside her.

“Will you recognize me when we’re forced to hide? When that fire must be hidden, if not snuffed entirely?” She asked quietly as she wrapped an arm around his waist.

He let out a small laugh. “There is no hiding it. Righteous fury burns in your eyes as clear as day. You may hide your identity a thousand times over but you will never hide your strength.”

“Apparently all it takes is nearly dying to make poets of scholars.” Cosette smiles. “Death and love.” 

“We’re in strange times, it makes poets of all of us.” Combeferre kisses her forehead. 

Cosette closes her eyes for a moment before she gasps and they fly open. “Papa and Marius! We need to check on them! We can rest later, they may need help!”

Combeferre stares at her for a moment before bursting into laughter and pulling her close. “I love you so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'll be in the same order as they first found out so next up will be Courf's ending.


	3. Courfeyrac Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Courfeyrac, Gavroche, and Cosette run into a familiar face on the way to safety.

They lost sight of Gavroche for only a moment. He slipped away because something caught his eye and now he was gone. 

“We’ll find him. He’s not far.” Courfeyrac reassured himself by reassuring Cosette. 

“Of course.” Cosette took his hand. “He’ll be fine.”

Courfeyrac smiled and his dimples were as distracting as usual. It was almost enough to take away from the desperation of the situation.

“Let me go, you coward!” They heard a familiar voice and ran towards it. Gavroche was held off the ground by an arm. It had to be painful. 

“I saw you at the barricade. Where does the criminal live?” The inspector pulled him up to eye level. By "the criminal" Cosette guessed he meant her or her father seeing as he had apparently left the man alive. 

Gavroche just spit at him and was tossed to the ground in response. 

“Gavroche!” Cosette hurried to his side and Courfeyrac was close behind. 

“Who are you?” The inspector that Cosette remembered was called Javert apparently didn’t recognize her by the light of day. Even as he took her by the shoulder he didn’t realize she was the same one that nearly shot him. She would likely have to own up to being the leader now in order to keep Gavroche and Courfeyrac safe. 

“I am-“

“Keep your hands off my sister!” Gavroche hopped up and nearly took a swing at Javert only to be carefully grabbed by Courfeyrac who ran with the statement.

“My apologies Inspector. He ran out last night saying he was going to be a revolutionary and we were looking for him since. Thank you for finding him for us.” He put on his best charming grin. 

“Are you his brother?” Javert eyed him with suspicion.

“Not by blood sir, I am his sister’s fiancé. We look out for him as best we can since the white plague took his mother, but you know how young boys can be. They dream of glory however they can get it.” 

“Is that why you were on the barricades as well?” Javert stared down at him, an accusation already forming in his eyes.

“I had to make sure he was safe sir.” Courfeyrac explained. “He refused to leave and I knew my beloved would never forgive me if I returned without him. So I stayed to fight for his safety.” 

Cosette could tell he was getting nervous. The charade wouldn’t last much longer. Now that they had started it she knew she had to support it. “And you’re an idiot for doing so. The both of you. You could have been killed, or killed someone for a cause you don’t even believe in!” She couldn’t help but notice how stiff and proper this inspector was. Perhaps she could use that. 

“Yes well I-“

Cosette cut him off with a kiss. She told herself that this was just to protect themselves, she wouldn’t allow any personal feelings about his ridiculous hair or sweet disposition to influence her. “Stop talking while I think you a hero for saving my brother.” She kept it barely above a whisper so that the inspector would be under the impression that it was meant to be private.

Courfeyrac blinked and stared in stunned silence. It was as if the kiss had stolen away his ability to speak. 

Gavroche seemed to catch on right away. “Oh gross you’re going to do that stuff again? Sir, can you arrest me? Or them for being gross?”

Javert seemed immensely uncomfortable and it only multiplied when Cosette laid her head on her “fiancé’s” chest. “Hurry home. It’s not safe out. Should you see anything report it right away.”

“Yes sir!” Gavroche saluted in mock respect. 

“Hurry along you two.” Cosette took them both by the hand and practically ran with them to 16 Rue de la Verrerie. Cosette noticed that Courfeyrac didn't make a sound the entire way back. 

When they got behind closed doors Gavroche started to laugh. “Enjolras did you see his face? I thought he was going to burst into flame!”

“Poor inspector didn’t quite seem what to make of affection.” She shook her head. “I should still be furious with you for running off like that.” 

“Well he was following us!” Gavroche protested. “Had to do something.”

Cosette ruffled his messy hair; honestly she probably made it cleaner by knocking dirt out of it. “Next time just say so. Why don’t you rest? I believe Marius has a spare bed here, doesn’t he Courfeyrac?”

Courfeyrac looked up seemingly startled. “Hm? Oh, yes. It’s right down there. We’ll be sure to wake you should there be anymore fighting to be done.” 

“Right, G'night!” Gavroche yawned as he waltzed off to bed.

“Goodnight, or rather good morning. Sweet dreams.” Cosette smiled and watched him go. It was nice to be certain that he was sleeping somewhere safe for once. She often had worried that his elephant might collapse on him in the night.

“Rest well.” Courfeyrac said quietly. 

Once Gavroche was in bed Cosette watched Courfeyrac pretend to busy himself with nothing in particular. Tidying something near the fireplace that didn’t really need it. “Are you alright?” She didn't truly think that he was ill; however, she had read that combat could supposedly bring about hysteria in men. Though she suspected the trauma of it could hurt anyone.

He jumped again. “Yes I-“ He sighed. “I don’t know why I would attempt to lie to someone such as you. I’m not particularly all right. I nearly died. He nearly died. So did you.” 

“We all barely escaped death.” Cosette admitted. 

“And then… and then that?” He leaned against the mantle. “It’s enough to tear the heart in two.”

Cosette came over and sat in front of the fire. “What do you mean by ‘that’?”

“A lie sweeter than reality is one thing. But to experience it after you had been so sure all of it was lost is...a lot.” Words failed him as he sat beside her. 

“If I had known a kiss would so ruin you I wouldn’t have hurt you so.” She couldn’t help but feel guilty even if she was relieved all the same. It was the kiss that had been bothering him, not the battle. 

“It wasn’t that, though I do love your idea of hurting me, it was being your hero in the way you’re so often mine. It was the idea of waking up every day and looking after everyone’s favorite street child with you, despite being woefully unprepared. It was the idea of disgusting a child by being sweet with you.” He sighed and leaned back onto his arms. “Forgive me, I must sound terrifyingly out of character. Perhaps it is the exhaustion.”

Cosette thought for a moment before crawling on top of him. “Being flirtatious to the point of near indecency, your soft spot for children laying you low, and attempting to hide the deeper parts of your soul behind smiles? You sound as wonderful as ever.”

He raised an eyebrow and glanced her over. “My dear, you’ll have to forgive me, but it seems an awful lot like you’re interested in indecency.” 

She laughed and leaned in to kiss him. Cosette tangled her fingers into his curly hair, something she’d thought about on more than one occasion, and sighed when he wrapped an arm around her waist. 

Courfeyrac’s lips made it to her neck before he was rudely interrupted.

“Oh disgusting! It’s real! I knew it!” Gavroche yelled from the doorway.

Cosette burst into a fit of giggles and hid her face in Courfeyrac’s chest as he groaned. 

“Go back to bed Gavroche.” Cosette managed between giggles. 

“Just don’t be loud and gross!” He demanded. 

“Honestly we’re too tired for that. Tomorrow though…” Courfeyrac grinned and tried to look up at him

“Gross. Goodnight.” Gavroche quickly retreated.

“Ah, be careful what you wish for.” Courfeyrac whispered. 

Cosette carefully stood and took his hand. “Come along love, let’s go actually use the bed. If we sleep here we’ll be too sore to ever move again.” 

“Lead the way, my dear.” He followed with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dorks! All of theM!
> 
> Cosette's a dork for being caught up in those dimples! Courf's a dork for wanting to be an embarrassing older brother/dad. Javert's a dork for being scared away by kissy face! I'm a dork for giggling while I wrote this!
> 
> The only adult is Gavroche!  
> (Also also Cosette is way ahead of her time being worried about PTSD back before she's got any sort of word for it. As far as I can tell from my studies ((And wiki)) the general terminology went about like Male Hysteria>Railway Spine>Shell Shock>Gross Stress Reaction>PTSD however reporting of obvious symptoms dates back to ancient Assyria.)


	4. Vivent Les Peuples

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette and Feuilly are forced to hide and have a discussion about the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have some Feuilly Feelings™.

Cosette lead the two of them through the streets at a break neck pace. They had to get to safety as soon as they could. With a small gasp she pulled Feuilly into an alley as a patrol marched by. 

They would never make it to her home safely. There were simply too many guards and not enough places to hide. They were on borrowed time and Cosette was running out of ideas. 

Feuilly tugged at her arm and with nod of the head told her to follow. He took her hand as he moved at what felt like a snail’s pace through the alleys. When they came to what looked like a cellar he turned back and whispered. “This basement isn’t attached to the building above. They forgot about it when they tore down the previous home.” He carefully opened the doors for Cosette and continued explaining as she climbed down. “I used to sleep down here when I was a kid. It’s not entirely stable and connected to the catacombs but it should serve us for the time being.” He slipped a block of wood between the handles of the doors to lock it. 

“Feuilly.” Cosette tugged on his arm and pointed out the two kids that had claimed the place first. Two boys were curled up in the far corner on what looked like a few ratty coats. Rather than looking frightened they seemed quite angry that someone was trespassing on their trespassed property. 

“Who are you?” One demanded. 

“Who are you?” Feuilly folded his arms. 

“I asked you first.” The braver seeming of the two boys countered.

“I’m the one who discovered this place to begin with.” Feuilly didn’t seem at all phased.

“That’s not true, Gavroche’s friend found it. He said to stay here until the revolutionaries all kill themselves.” The shyer of the two poked his head out from behind the other.

“Marguerite you idiot.” He sighs. “Did he tell you this place was dangerous, cold, and open to the catacombs?”

“Yeah, so?” “Whose that?” The two spoke over the top of each other. 

“Never mind it. He’s probably changed it three times by now. Point is we’re staying here for a bit. I’m Feuilly, this is Étolie.” For some reason he didn’t use either Enjolras or Cosette despite likely hearing Combeferre use it.

“I’m Hugues and that’s Bressole. But I wanna be called Lux.” He puffed out his chest.

“Don’t you already have a name?” Feuilly raised an eyebrow.

He crossed his little arms. “Yeah and? Lux is cooler.” 

“Well it is the surname of a German revolutionary.” Cosette offered.

“Really?” Hugues, or Lux, seemed interested. “I was just talking about the gardens. That’s really cool!”

Bressole pulled Hugues over to speak to him.

The two kids whispered amongst themselves in a language Cosette couldn’t hope to follow. 

“Absolutely not.” Feuilly scoffed. “Just lay back down.” He walked over and rearranged the pile of likely stolen coats so that the children are tucked in. “We will wake you when it’s safe to leave.”

The children seemed nervous of him at first but soon drifted back off to sleep.

Cosette did her best to make herself comfortable by the door in case they were burst in on. “What were they talking about?”

“They were using argot to discuss if they thought they could best us.” He kept his voice low as not to wake them. “They were sent down here by someone I knew from when I was perhaps their age. Maybe older. It’s hard to know. All I know is if they’re still alive they’ve chosen another name for themselves. Perhaps cycled through quite a few. It’s the way of things.”

“Have you?” Cosette smiled at the idea of a small Feuilly having a dozen nicknames.

“I was called Tache growing up because I’ve always been trying to find work and it wasn’t usually clean. I always had oil, dirt, or something on my face. So ‘spot’ fit. I took Feuilly for myself.” He sat beside her.

“You’ve taken everything you have for yourself.” Cosette shook her head. “You just…You astonish me. As someone who has had nothing you simply amaze me. You’re always moving forward, even if you have to claw your way towards a better future. I worry I would have been ground to dust by now.”

Feuilly moved a touch closer. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. Even now after saving our lives. I once called you Étolie because I said you were beautiful like a star. You also lead with the brilliance of one. I once heard that sailors would use maps of the stars themselves to guide their ships home and you did the same for us. I have also heard from Combeferre that the stars are the same as our own sun just impossibly far away. Well, it fits because like the sun I can think of no greater source of light and warmth in our lives. Had things not gotten better for you, you would have made them better just as you seek to make them better for everyone around you. You have that strength in you, you just don’t know it because it’s hard to see yourself.”

“I suppose I did create a man just to fight.” She admitted with a laugh.

“And you educated yourself on the level of the others with only their books.” Something that he had done his best to struggle through as well. 

Cosette gasped and put her hand on his arm. “Aren’t they difficult to follow? It’s wrong that I should have to take an entire day to translate a chapter into something legible. It creates the feeling that they don’t want anyone outside academia to learn a thing from their work. They want to close it off and keep the people from learning about the world. Or worse, they’re so wrapped up in the idea of impressing their fellow academics that they don’t realize it’s completely inaccessible. Thoughtlessness can be worse than cruelty; the thoughtless would never wish to hurt someone. They just do. Then when you try to explain to them what they’re doing they’re afraid to see it.” She sighed and leaned against Feuilly. “Though that might all be a little besides the point at the moment.”

“Perhaps.” He smiled. “Though they’re things to concern yourself with all the same.”

“You’re wonderful. You know this right? You lift me up at every point yet you always keep me grounded. When I get angry over scholars being full of themselves your gentle presence is enough to remind me that there are children working in factories who would love the opportunity to be confused by them; then your constant reassurance that I haven’t somehow gotten myself off-topic by worrying about it in the first place.” She sighed deeply. “I must admit there are times where I feel unqualified to speak of anything. Of course I am not like the other students, yet, I was saved from the hell of living on the streets and stopped having to work early so I feel…unqualified in that respect as well. Guilty, if you would believe it.”

“Not having to suffer as badly as others have is something to treasure. Nor does it make your burdens any less when they trouble you. Though, I have no doubt you would suffer on all of Paris’ behalf should you be given the opportunity.” He thought for a moment. “A trellis. You behave like a trellis for roses, supporting them and making them all beautiful. But you risk weighing yourself down and cutting yourself on thorns.” He placed his hand on hers.

Cosette couldn’t help but notice callouses that made his strong hands quite rougher than that of most of her companions. “That would make you a gardener then I suppose. Cutting away weeds and tying me to the walls so I don’t fall to bits.” His calloused hands were proof that he had worked, climbed, and fought for every moment he had.

“A job I haven’t had yet, though it looks rather peaceful. I always wanted a farm when I was younger.” He almost seemed sheepish to admit it, ironically enough. 

“Really?” She was immediately in love with the idea of Feuilly relaxing on a mountainside, perhaps being pestered by goats. 

“Yeah, somewhere far from the city. Clean air. Plenty of animals. An orchard.” He sounded like he had put a lot of thought into this idea. 

“What happened?” Cosette was almost afraid to ask.

“A mixture of time and responsibilities. If I leave who will keep the group out of trouble? Who will pass out bread to the kids?” Feuilly shrugged.

“Keep us out of trouble? If I recall correctly you had a sword and the enemy had cannons.” She fought to keep from giggling and raising her voice. 

“Yes, well, it was scalding water and knives that bested them.” He pointed out.

“The people are unstoppable when we work together. Women scrubbing floors, children shining shoes, men shoveling coal; Paris likes to forget that the people exist but it would grind to a halt within a day without them.” Cosette would always be thrilled with the fact that it was the people who came to their aid in their time of need.

He nodded in agreement. “There’s also far more mice than there are cats.”

“What was it you were carving into the wall upstairs? I never got to see.” She had heard that he was carving something but she had been too heartbroken to read his final words to the world.

“Vivent Les Peuples.” It had been a long two hours to carve that.

“Perfectly chosen last words. Tell me, do you know it in the Polish you have learned?” She almost needed to lighten the mood again, yes they were safer now but they didn’t truly feel so.

“I think it might be Niech żyje ludzie? Perhaps? My polish isn’t very good. All I really know is that and kocham cię.” His cheeks were faintly pink.

Cosette blushed deeply and stared straight ahead.

He froze entirely. “Wait, do you know what I said?”

“I-I wanted it to be a surprise but the language is just so…harsh! It’s like cutting a man with words. I stopped after “Hello”, “goodbye”, and um... ”I love you” I thought that would be all I would need for a show of support in your interests.” The typical confidence she felt in front of a crowd had absolutely vanished.

“Did you plan anything for those words beyond support?” He gripped her hand but glanced away to avoid her eyes.

“I had hopes for them.” She slowly turned his head to make him look at her.

He glanced down at her lips and allowed himself to drift so closely that they brushed against hers as he spoke. “Then you should know I poured over mine so I could tell you what you mean to me in some possible way.” 

Cosette closed the gap between them for a moment before they were interrupted by a gagging noise. The two boys were staring at them with disgust. “Now, shouldn’t you two be asleep?” She quickly kissed Feuilly’s cheek before standing and walking over. “Here.” She untied her apron and did her best to tuck the boys back in. “Won’t your friend want you to be rested?”

“I think he just cares if we’re not dead.” Hugues yawned.

“He probably has a point there.” Feuilly bent one knee and leaned forward against it with a grin. 

“Won’t you want to be rested?” Cosette tried.

“Just don’t be gross while we sleep.” He mumbled.

“We won’t, dear.” She stroked his hair before heading over to Feuilly. With a sly grin she sat in his lap rather than beside him. “You should get your farm, even if you must leave the city. I hear that apples thrive in the alps. Roses and lavender for soap and so we could have bees for honey. Cows for milk. Sheep for wool. Huge dogs to protect them. You could also find plenty of help among children of the city who have no-where to go. That way they don’t have to grow up among the factories.”

Feuilly held her close. “We. You said we.”

“I did didn’t I?” She leaned back into him. “I could never abandon my work. You couldn’t either. Though perhaps something like this would allow for safety. Enjolras’ name is known. Cosette’s face is known. If I vanish and only reappear on occasion then I can become a myth. A legend to inspire freedom in others. I was afraid that I would have to kill Enjolras to be able to live through this but perhaps having an idyllic little farm in the mountains to hide in could preserve him. It would be building a better future from a different base of operations other than the café.”

He laughed and she treasured the feeling. “Just the idea of hiding the others in a barn is more than enough of a reason.”

“Not to worry sir, this is just our…cousin, Courfeyrac. He’s a good lad.” She giggled. 

“Three days.” Feuilly leaned forward and shook his head. 

“What?” Cosette turned her head to try and see him in the darkness. 

“Three days until he is chased out of some old man’s farmhouse with a blunderbuss for being too charming for his own good.” His smile was fond as he predicted his friend’s inevitable near-death experience.

“Then he’s lucky for the practice he’s had in not getting shot.” Cosette put her hand on his cheek. “I would like to offer them that safety. I would also like to offer those two a way out of this.” She tilted her head towards the sleeping boys.

“You will adopt all of Paris.” Feuilly pressed their foreheads together as he fondly teased.

“She adopted you. It is only fair.” She glanced over to be certain that the boys were truly asleep before kissing Feuilly once again. His stubble scratched at her lips and she was too tired to do much more than hold him close but she wouldn’t have it any other way. It was as much a promise as much as it was a kiss. A promise of a brighter future, a softer future, and a future where they could protect the people they cared about while fighting for a better world. 

Their future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want them to all be happy and safe and have cows. they deserve dogs. chickens too. my boys. my lads. i love them so much. *cries in farmer*
> 
> Also Marguerite (means Daisy) is Montparnasse. Marguerite was the name he started with, then people started calling him Musaraigne (shrew) because tiny and hateful, he tried to call himself Malin (sly/cunning), and then Montparnasse stuck. (honestly thinking of Montparnasse as a tiny, fiercely territorial, rodent, with venomous little teeth, and not so hot vision is the best thing I've done all day.)


	5. Explosive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bahorel and Cosette cover the Amis as they escape.

Bahorel and Cosette resolved themselves to distracting the guardsmen who remained. They piled barrel after barrel of explosive unto the back of the barricade. Gunpowder, wine, cooking oil; anything that could catch they added to their weapon. 

“I doubt we’ll have much time to escape.” Cosette warned gravely, she didn’t want him to have any false hope about their chances.

“Oh of course not,” Bahorel laughed. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She nodded. “Death doesn’t even seem like a tragedy when you’re dying to save so many.”

“Who said anything about dying?” He leaned against his rifle. “You may have the soul of a Martyr, little doll, but neither of us are going to die today. I can feel it.” 

“Bahorel, your spirit means the world to me. If I-‘ Cosette was quickly cut off.

“No no no, no death speeches. You’ll jinx the string of luck we’ve been having.” He playfully smacked her on the back, which was enough to nearly knock her off balance. 

“If you insist.” She lied just long enough for him to drop his guard. “You’ve been a pleasure to know!” Cosette hurried out before ducking out of his gasp with a grin. 

“Monster!” Bahorel laughed despite his frustration. 

A shot sounded and forced them both to hit the ground. Cosette winced at the feeling of her wounds being hit against the cobblestone ground and Bahorel crawled on his arms to get closer. He had a cut on his cheek that seemed knew, Cosette hopped it was simply shrapnel rather than a bullet straying that close.

“It seems we’re out of time for games.” Cosette sighed and forced herself to her knees.

“It seems so. Have a light?” He held up a discarded bottle of wine that had been filled with various other things.

Cosette scrambled for a match and struck it. When she offered it to Bahorel he lit the fuse he had made and handed the Molotov cocktail to her.

“Ready?” He seemed nearly ecstatic.

“Absolutely not. Back up.” Cosette leaned her head back to give a final warning. They deserved that much. “Leave now or die!”

The response came with disgust. “Surrender and your deaths will be swift!”

Cosette tossed the cocktail overhanded onto the barricade with all the force she could muster.

They barely had a moment to register the shattering of glass before a violent roar of flame engulfed what had been their shelter and symbol these two hard days. She was grateful for the roar of the flames drowning out the sounds of the men who were very likely screaming for their lives at this very moment. 

Cosette was tempted by guilt and regret but reminded herself of the cannons that the guard turned on them without hesitation, fire may not be the kindest weapon but they showed no discretion in their use of weaponry either. The only reason they had shown any kindness was their own inability to see her as a fighter. If they gave up on their battle and focused on the fire they should be able to contain it and sustain little damage. It will be proof of what they care for, their men and their people or punishing those who dared challenge them. 

The boys had been told to warn those they passed of a possible fire, as the chances of the guard actually choosing to protect the people felt slim at this point.

The flames burned high and bright, sending their flag waving wildly before being taken over itself. Cosette and Bahorel were transfixed until the explosions began. 

“Shit!” Bahorel narrowly avoided flaming shrapnel as he took Cosette’s hand and pulled her towards the winding alleyways.

“I must admit it’s a bit bigger than I expected.” Cosette followed after him as the flames increased behind them. Perhaps the gunpowder had been a mistake.

Bahorel snorted in laughter. “A bit!”

The sky quickly became a smoky grey as they fled. 

“You almost died not a moment ago! Slow down for a second!” Cosette laughed and coughed as she ran behind Bahorel. He barely seemed affected by it all. Not the fire in the distance or the battle from the night before. Her wounds and the air conditions were beginning to get to her. 

“Nonsense!” He swooped her up in his arms so the two wouldn’t be held up. “I’m immortal! 

She squeaked and held onto him. “If you drop me at this speed I will haunt you until the day you die.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Bahorel kept a steady pace as he barreled through the streets. “Stop me if I hurt your wound or scar.” He added in a calmer tone, Cosette was reminded of the tenderness when he helped her care for her wounds.

“So obsessed with small things like my scar but you neglect your life entirely? Did you forget your mind on the barricade? Because I fear there is no getting it back now.” She wraps her arms around his neck.

Cosette was dimly aware of someone asking for them to stop but Bahorel didn’t even pause as he yelled over his shoulder.

“I’d rather face a firing line than make the misses angry sirs!” He called.

“Can’t you see the smoke?” Cosette pointed back towards the barricade in the hopes the interloper would either evacuate or assist in putting it out. 

Thankfully whoever it was seemed to have more important business than to stop them by force or they were thoroughly startled by the fire.

“Surely death wouldn’t be better than making one’s wife angry.” Cosette scoffed as they continued.

“Most young ladies yes, however I’ve seen what you can do with a simple bottle of wine. I’d rather take a sure execution than whatever you would have planned for me if I stepped too far out of line.” He slipped down an alley and set Cosette down to rest for a moment. “Not that I think you a torturer of course.” He winked as he gasped for air, the smoke and exertion finally taking a toll on him.

“The torture here is that look.” She gently pushed his face away. “Be roguish elsewhere.”

Bahorel kissed her fingers as they brushed across her lips. “If I had any desire to do that I’d be elsewhere.”

Cosette’s cheek went from pink, to red, to a deep crimson before she smacked his shoulder with a flustered giggle. “We still have to find somewhere to hide! We blew up part of the city! Standing about and flirting is out of the question!”

“Can you imagine Combeferre’s face when he discovers how big it became?” He grinned.

Cosette’s face pales. “He will not.” She glanced over her shoulder before heading further down the alley. “We can cut through the gardens, it should give us a decent view of the smoke and if anyone asks we can claim we didn’t realize something was happening. Paris is large and the bourgeoisie too self-centered to notice anything that doesn’t involve them.”

“We don’t look the part at the moment.” Bahorel casually threw an arm around her shoulder. 

“Fashion is incomprehensible anyway. Claim it to be experimental bohemian fashion, if they don’t believe us they will be confused long enough for us to flee.” Cosette leaned into him. 

“Incomprehensible? But you certainly seem to comprehend.” Bahorel smiled when he realized she was going to turn the conversation to politics.

“I understand how, not quite why. Yes of course I enjoy a lovely dress. Though the punishment other women receive for not being able to afford one is simply infuriating.” Cosette smiled. “That’s probably a rather odd thing to complain about after nearly being shot, exploded, and burnt to death.”

“I only wish that the others were here, you see I explained that you were just as ready to fight as I. You’re just small enough that Combeferre and Courfeyrac can hold you back should need be. But already you’re ready to take down a tailor or the very concept of income inequality.” He pat her shoulder. “Exhausting yet admirable!”

“I will rest when I meet a foe capable of killing me.” It was only partially a joke.

“Ah, weren’t you the one telling me to slow up not long ago?” He pointed out.

“The things I tell you to do and the things I do are very different but equally important.” She did her best to remain serious though she knew what was coming next.

Bahorel leaned his head back in laughter. “Spoken like a real parent.”

“Oh hush.” She let herself rest her head on him as they walked. “After we cut through the garden we should go to your lodgings.”

“Yes ma’am.” He gave a little salute. “And after that?”

“After that we will have to do something about the smoke smell, as well as dinner.” She glanced up at him to find him looking down at her fondly. 

“It sounds like a date, little doll.” Bahorel kissed her forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cosette "I'll sleep when I'm dead" Fauchelevent.

**Author's Note:**

> "What saved all those boys hold up outside the cafe?"  
> feminism
> 
> I plan to do the next bits as alternate endings. One for her ending up with Marius and then so on through. I have to do Marius, then I figured that a Grantaire ending would need to happen to, then I accidentally got inspired for a Combeferre one and now she gets all the boys because I might as well not leave anyone out. We're here for equality and all that anyway.
> 
> Also Combeferre "kidnapping" her would literally be her trying to snatch his glasses and yelling about mutiny and treason while the rest of the boys follow along nervously telling her to be careful so he doesn't accidentally drop her. Basically my cat and I's situation when I try to do anything for his own good. He's so offended and angry when I help him.


End file.
